Demon Thief by Darren Shan Page A

younger woman — Nadia — says with a sad smile, “you don’t want to stay here. You’ve followed us into a different universe — the home of the Demonata. It’s a hellhole. This part isn’t so bad, but we’re going to encounter far worse very soon. You don’t want to be with us when that happens.
I
wouldn’t be here if I had a choice.”
    “I don’t care,” I say, close to tears. “Art’s my brother. Mom told me to look after him. I’m not going back alone.” Softly, voice cracking, I add, “I can’t.”
    Sharmila’s eyes go soft with pity. “I am sorry, Kernel. We have spoken harshly. But you have to understand — it is impossible. You cannot stay. You could do no good here. You must go home. Your parents will be frantic, thinking they have lost you both. That is not fair, is it?”
    “No, but . . .” I can’t find the words to explain.
    “Enough talk,” Beranabus grunts, losing his patience. “The boy wants to stay . . . you all want to send him home . . . this is easily decided.”
    He flicks a hand at me. Suddenly I’m flying through the air. I smack hard into a tree and cry out with shock and pain, mostly from my broken arm. As I fall to the ground, the branches of the tree move quickly. Catch me. Wrap themselves around me. Squeeze.
    I catch sight of Sharmila darting to my rescue. Beranabus waves a hand, stopping her. The branches tighten. The tree howls louder than ever. I’m lifted up. The holes in its bark are expanding. It means to crush and swallow me. A few seconds more and I’ll be dead, killed and eaten by this monstrous sham of a tree.
    Something flares within me. I scream at the tree, set my teeth on the nearest branch to my face, and bite hard. The tree screeches. I chew through the branch, snapping it loose. Another. My left arm comes free. There’s heat in my palm. I grab a branch and feel power shoot through my hand, into the wood.
    The tree howls with pain, then abruptly releases me. I drop, hit the water, go under, come up spluttering and thrashing. I dip under again. This time I stay there, feeling the water drag me down. I realize the water’s alive too, like the trees. Just as hungry and eager to kill.
    I fight the panic. Force my legs to stop kicking wildly. Direct the power in my palm down towards my feet. I imagine myself as a rocket, blasting off, breaking free of the pull of the water. For a few seconds nothing happens. My lungs tighten. My mouth twitches.
    Then, in a sudden burst, I explode upwards, out of the water, coughing, shivering, but free. I land on my feet, and this time the surface of the water holds. There’s terrible pain in my broken arm as I land, but I quickly use the power to numb myself to it.
    I face Beranabus, furious at him for launching me at the tree and nearly killing me. Ready to attack him, to use my power to smash him to pieces.
    He’s laughing. The others are staring at me, stunned, but Beranabus is laughing. “I thought so!” he cackles. “I guessed there was more to this one than mere flesh and bone. Ordinary children don’t step out of their own world into the universe of the Demonata. You need to be one of us to be that crazy. We’ll hold on to him.”
    “No!” Sharmila cries.
    “But . . . master . . . he’s only a child,” Raz mumbles. “This is a bad idea,” Nadia adds.
    “I don’t care,” Beranabus says, waving away their protests. He grins at me, but it’s the smile of a cutthroat pirate. “You want to stay and help us find Cadaver? You want to search for your brother and rescue him like a knight of old? Very well, boy, you’ve got your wish.” He sticks out an arm, even though we’re too far from each other to shake hands. “You’re one of us now, Kernel Fleck. A demon hunter. Welcome to the Disciples!”

DEMONS AND DISCIPLES
    B ERANABUS is still working on his spells. Trying to find Cadaver and open a window which will lead us to the creature. According to Nadia there are thousands of demon worlds like